


Worse Than Being Unconscious

by Saigoat



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Blood As Lube, Blood and Gore, Choking, Drunk Sex, Extremely Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Poor Theon, Psychological Torture, Ramsay is His Own Warning, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 03:33:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18380111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saigoat/pseuds/Saigoat
Summary: Gratitude is an important lesson to be taught, who better to teach Reek than the young Bolton himself?





	Worse Than Being Unconscious

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy this Reek still has all his bits and pieces down below in this particular rendition.

"Well?" Those chilling eyes gave him a searching look.

The man in question stayed put on the cold, hard ground trembling furiously under his Master's gaze.

"I asked you a question." The voice hinted annoyance, "Would you like to have a nice, hot meal, Reek?"  
He couldn't decide if this was another trick, if he should deny that he was hungry at all...but the poor man hadn't eaten for several days. He nodded shallowly, mouth opening and closing slightly, trying to answer the Bolton.

"And It's quite frigid out here wouldn't you agree?" Ramsay attempted to feign a concerned look, "Come along inside."  
It wasn't an offer anymore, rather a demand. Reek stood up on his shaky legs and followed his lord out of the familiar kennels, limping just a step behind the leisurely pace Ramsay was setting. Outside a winter storm was blanketing the Dreadfort and chilling every man to the bone. Snow drifts piled to his knees made every step unsure. The terrified boy kept his eyes cast down, wildly thinking of a reason behind the late night trudge to his Master's quarters. Could he really hope for a morsel of food? Or was it another ruse? He choked back a whimper, He'd been so well behaved, why did he deserve this? The feeble captive had done everything that cruel man had asked of him, and would do anything to keep the rest of his fingers or an unmarred patch of skin. While he worked himself into a frenzy of thought, they had managed to reach their destination. The bastard swung the heavy wooden door open and gestured for his pet to enter. The blazing hearth was a welcome comparison to the blizzard raging outside, but once inside Reek almost lost the last of his nerve when his master stood over his shoulder hovering menacingly. A single plate had been sat neatly on the only wooden table in the room it had a lovely looking venison roast, some cooked vegetables, a goblet of what looked like wine and various other things the mangled man believed too good to be true. 

"Go on," smile evident in his voice, "have a seat enjoy yourself." A gentle nudge spurred him into stumbling over to the table and to sit down with caution, waiting for the catch. He sat there, shoulders hunched, hands wringing themselves in his lap while his gaze bored holes into the stone floor. Ramsay took the seat across from him, he looked positively horrifying the way his grin split his pale features.

"Eat." Impatience bloomed in that harsh voice.

"Y-yes, Master." Not sure when his next meal would be, Reek gingerly started picking at the food. Occasionally he'd glance up to see if it was still okay, nervous to fall into any trap his lord liked to set.

"Have a drink, won't you?"

He flinched when the silence was broken, with a shivering hand he reached for the cup and took a tentative sip. When he didn't drop dead from any sort of poison or throw up any horrid substance he drank a tad more freely. Warm and spiced, the wine tasted better than anything he'd remembered, the meat as well, this all seemed like a fever dream he was muddling through. Surely Ramsay would not treat him so kindly without reason, it must be a new game. No matter how long the pair sat there, Reek couldn't push away the dread building in the back of his head.

"Here have some more, sweetling." The other poured his captive another cup. Ramsay's nonchalance would have been disturbing had he not been absorbed in the task at hand, the broader man idly sat askew in his chair, an elbow propped on the rough wood. He drank, soaking up perhaps the last chance he had to eat genuine food and have a beverage not served in a dog bowl. With every swallow, his head swam a little more pleasantly, panic quelling. His Master sat smiling at him, watching his pet sink into faintly rigid ease. Ramsay adored the way his pet's eyes kept flickering up to assure his Lord's approval, but nonetheless, he drank. The further the emaciated boy drifted into an alcohol-soaked stupor, the less his wounds ached. It was an encouragement to continue and finally feel the pain lift off his shoulders, even if only a little bit.  
"I'd hoped you would like it," He said, sarcasm becoming more evident in his lilt, "But you can't seem to hold your alcohol."  
On his fifth goblet, he realized he'd made a mistake. The moment he locked eyes with Ramsay he knew something was wrong, there was a fire behind those pale pupils and Reek recognized it. His chair made an awful scraping noise as the Bolton suddenly stood, sending Reek into a fit of shaking once more. Ramsay looked at him expectantly, waiting for his creature's appreciation. Finally, he took the hint.

"Thank you, M'lord." He managed not to slur his gratitude for the gracious meal. His head swam, his thoughts flitted in every different direction, focus eluding him. The buzzing at the base of his neck grew with each passing second. Oh no oh no oh no, his thoughts raced and anxiety rattled in his chest. He stared at the floor again, trying to ground himself.

"Stand up."

He jumped to his feet but swayed and nearly fell, oh no oh no oh no. The room span and he felt sick when his captor piped up, "Tsk tsk, don't you know wine goes to your head on an empty stomach..." he was right the shaking mess hadn't eaten in days, only what was on his plate when he walked in, stupid stupid stupid. He let out a soft sob of regret, who knows what his torturer had in mind for his intoxicated plaything.  
Ramsay moved to stand behind him, placing a firm hand on each shoulder. The touched made alarm bells pound in his head, waves of unease washed over his body.

"M' sorry Master..." He spoke nearly inaudibly.

"No no no, have more, no need to apologize." The spite in that voice twisted his insides. The hands on him guided him closer to the table and offered another cup, he shook his head. There was no way he could keep it down if he had taken it. He felt the man behind him tense and dig his fingers down into the flesh it held. 

"No? You would refuse my generosity?"

Theon's eyes went wide and he frantically searched for the right answer, "N-no I...c-can't I-"  
His Master spun him around to face him and the room span with him. His visage dark with a new game, he had set him up to fail. Fear took hold, intense nausea hit Theon's stomach and made it a struggle to stay upright.

"I bring you in from the cold, share my food with you, and now you reject my offers?" He was only asking to make his pet even more lost, to see the struggle on the broken mans face. Reek could only shake his head in a bewildered manner, desperately attempting to rein in his panic. Without much further provoking he reached back for the offending liquid and took a large swig, before he could finish the cup was slapped from his hand and clattered to the floor.  
"It's too late for that, pet." Venom dousing each word.

"Please, M'lord!" His voice quaked, he didn't want to earn another lashing or worse, get shorn a few more fingers, "M' s-sorry."  
His apologies slurred, face wet with tears, he just wanted to be good for his Master but at every turn, he kept ruining it with his stupidity. He never learned the rules of the Boltons games fast enough. Those strong hands pushed him to the Lord's broad bed, piled with furs and blankets for the long winter ahead.

"Shhh shhh you can make it up to me sweet Reek, would you like that?" He asked, his voice hushed. Theon nodded vigorously, it made his head swim. Ramsay shoved him onto the mattress and towered over the smaller figure. He wasted no time grabbing a knife from his bedside table, at the sight of it his creature let out a broken cry. Reek wanted to curl in on himself and will it all away, he hadn't meant to offend his lord but he'd pay in hide anyhow. The other man languidly dragged the point over the pale skin, relishing his pitiful sobs and begging pouring from the wretch. Bolton stopped at his forearm and dug in pulling a pained gasp from his prey, blood pooled and dripped from the small gash. The wound didn't seem to sober his charge though, Reek still bobbed his head and swayed at the slightest motion. He brushed his dark hair out of his face and joined Theon on the bed, pushing himself between the broken man's legs. If he had known what was going on he might have struggled harder but he could only focus on the throb in his freshly cut arm. The other was hunched over his prize, a grimace that might have passed as a grin haunted the former Greyjoy and spurned him to thrash weakly against his captor.

"Now now sweetling, "He insisted, the words coated in a false sugar "No need to fight...I won't hurt you that badly." With that he ran the blade up and down the scarred torso, pressing just hard enough to coax blood out of the thin cuts. Others were deeper, leaking in broad swaths over his body.  
Poor Reek couldn't control the tears spilling down his face, inebriated and fearful he spewed apologies and begged for forgiveness...for what he wasn't really sure, but he pleaded all the same. All his attention was directed at the warm liquid dripping down his pale skin, and the buzz in his skull, he didn't notice his lord pushing against him or the glint that hid in his brutal eyes.  
Suddenly the knife was off him and Ramsay stroked the new slices with his hand, coating it in gore, and admired at it as one might revel at a beautiful sunset. He drew in a breath and snapped his gaze back to the task before him, he had his toy exactly where he wanted him.  
Tugging at the torn rags that passed as Reek's breeches yanked him back into reality, gears began to turn in his muddled mind. His Lord planned on using him, the thought bred new fear. Ramsay had done him the honor of "deflowering" Theon, as he liked to call it, months ago and the pain had him hobbling and limping behind his Master for days. Clearly, it drew the attention of the inhabitants of the Dreadfort and the whispers grew louder each passing week of what exactly the young Bolton was doing to his "prisoner of war". With ease, his pants were pulled from him, and the exposing feeling had him weep harder. Meekly pushing against his tormentor who had forgone the sharp blade to snatch both of Reek's scarred ankles in his hands, with a crushing hold he spread his prize open to admire it's maimed body. Every scar was deep and red, burn marks and bruises littered the marble flesh and was accompanied by vicious bite wounds that Ramsay had placed there himself. At last, his eye's fell upon the former Greyjoy's leaking member, his body betraying itself by growing hard. The sardonic laugh that followed chilled Theon to the bone and ripped his last shreds of hope to pieces.  
When the grip on his legs left, he was backhanded sharply across the face and the ringing almost drowned out his Lord's words, "It never ceases to amaze me how pathetic you are!" It sounded nearly excited but he couldn't place it in his state. Not seconds after he had heard the rustle of fabric, he felt a prodding at his entrance and let out another low whine. Ramsay had slicked himself in Reek's blood to ease the way, and not to mention for the unease it would cause his pet when he would remind him later how he'd ravaged him with his own gore.

Suddenly he slammed into the shuddering boy, yanking a shriek from him. He looked simply decadent, writhing, and screaming for his Master's mercy. Surely the guards outside would have a tale to tell and the Lord would be certain to kindle the rumors even further. He slowly rutted his hips against the other's, he was all the way to the hilt and earning new yelps with every motion. Ramsay relished in the agony and slowly pulled away until he was almost completely out of the boy then pushed all the way back in. Reek's hitched crying spurred him on, keeping a meandering pace to torture the trembling mess beneath him. Unable to move much, Theon let his legs spread further apart around his Master, his back pressed against the soft furs was a stark contrast to the fiery pain licking up his lower half. With each thrust he felt closer to ripping apart entirely, the girth splitting him apart didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon either. Despite the searing pain, he felt so full, it was nearly pleasant. His intoxicated mind melted at the attention his lord was bestowing upon him, Ramsay's voice echoed in his mind that he should be thankful to be getting such a treat from his well-meaning master. Yet the sobs still wracked his body and he could feel the tearing in his hole. The pace began to quicken ever so slightly, the bastard moved to grab one of Reeks' legs and pin it up while the other hand supported his weight. Leaning down to clamp his teeth into the fragile skin below, he tore through it with ease, spilling more of that lovely red liquid onto his bed. The room stank of copper and sex, the only sounds was the slap of skin and his playthings ruined cries.

"P-please, Master no more no-o more." The man managed through the haze.

"I'm uncertain you actually mean that." Ramsay remarked, reaching down to give Theon's twitching manhood a couple of rough strokes. The former let out a broken moan and tilted his head back to expose his bloody neck in submission hoping it would just be over quickly. His master couldn't help but smile and oblige his pet by sinking familiar teeth back into the proffered flesh.  
The thrusts became harder, brutal even, jolting the Greyjoy with every snap of his hips. In the drunken blur, the pleasure bloomed a little more, mingling with the thick agony. He could only focus on where his body was speared by the Lord's cock, gasps turning into groans.  
Reek felt dirty, humiliation burned in his stomach and coated his skin. Somewhere deep inside himself, he wanted to hate this, to despise the man bucking into him... but Reek didn't, Reek needed this. Needed to feel the pain, to wrap himself in Ramsay's praise. The broken creature would go the ends of the Earth for his Master, he had made him what he was, of course, he admired him. It felt wrong but he didn't think he knew any better, he was taught to not know any better.  
Wrenched from his thoughts by a particularly deep stroke he moaned wantonly and gripped the furs in his remaining fingers, desperately trying to push back against his captor. The spikes of pain seemed to hinder him slightly.  
Under the watch of those icy eyes, every human part of him felt carved away, and all that remained was a mangled animal hungry to please. The stupor the wine floated him in didn't do much to help, making it ever so easier to strip him of sense. Above him Ramsay surveyed his prey with grit teeth, the word satisfaction couldn't even begin to describe the way he felt owning his creature completely.

"If I had my way you'd never leave this room," He rasped, "You won't be able to stand, let alone walk when I'm finished with you."  
Reek whimpered pitifully, kindling the fire in his Master's stomach and pushed him to ram into the quivering mess more vigorously. It pulled Theon close to the edge, the stir in his groin could not go unnoticed much longer, the warmth pooled and pitched in his stomach. His manhood bobbed and twitched against his form, aching for release, and the poor boy keened for more while simultaneously pleading for it to stop.

"M'lord Please I-i-ah!" He gasped, "Please can I? O-oh Gods Please!"

"Can you what, Reek?" The growled response sparked more ragged moans. His leg was released and Ramsay dug his nails into his hips to emphasize each thrust.  
Fighting with the pain and the cloying urge to pass out strained his answer, "Please let me come Master, please I n-need it!" He felt the singe of embarrassment but it was widely overshadowed by his lord railing him. "I'm your good Reek please!"  
Above him the other basked in the desperation, he adored picking his Reek apart bit by bit...to see him truly crumble into an obedient animal. With that Ramsay stilled and shifted to pull Theon atop him, the awkward movement dizzying the drunk mess of a man.  
His stomach was akin to ship crashing against a craggy coast as he moved with the Bastard. Reek weakly balanced himself as he straddled his tormentor's hips. Dripping scarlet blood onto the other man's chest, where the fresh wounds still wept.

"Move." Came the simple command.

Being in no position to deny his Lord, the man gathered together the rest of his sense and strength and attempted to ride Ramsay in earnest; his still leaking member bobbed against his abdomen. His movement was uneven and labored but nonetheless, his Master basked in the task he laid before his pet. Reek gained a pitiful excuse for momentum and fucked down against the cruel Lord, groaning with a newly discovered agony. Gods be damned he certainly tried, the wine couldn't completely mask the embarrassment that heated his face. The gaze his Master had fixed on him was palpable, he could feel the monsters icey eyes rake over his mangled body, drinking in his handiwork. Momentarily preoccupied with riling his creature up, Ramsay focused once again on his own urges and began hammering into the bloody man. His charge finally resigned to its undignified fate braced himself weakly against his tormentor so Ramsay could do as he pleased to the inebriated mess in his tight clutches. Nothing got his blood racing more than his creature fully submitting to his will. A gentle hand wrapped around Reek's throat, the slow caress was a welcome change. He leaned into the touch, relieved to have a reprieve. His relief was short-lived, Ramsay's grip became crushing in half a second. His eyes flew open and rolled into the back of his head, all the poor thing could manage was to sputter and cling to consciousness, his scarred weak hands wrapped uselessly around the Bastard's wrist. The former Greyjoy's body writhed, lit up with adrenaline and pain, not to mention the black creeping up on his vision was alarming. In the midst of his plight, a particularly deep thrust combined with his Lord laughing frantically below him put an end to his constitution. Reek came hard, painting the Torturers stomach in his seed and worse yet painting a monstrous look on Ramsay's countenance.  
"Disgusting." He heard through the haze, the barrier that the thin veil of pleasure provided gave way to oversensitivity and a brand new suffering. Ramsay hammered into him through his orgasm, blood coated his thighs and pooled on the Bolton's stomach; every nerve in his body was on fire. The darkness nearly encompassed his vision now, the poor creature gave into the pain and let himself plunge into that dark sea.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!I'd love to hear all questions, comments or thoughts! My tumblr will be up and running soon @saigoat  
>  Please consider donating to my Ko-fi @ Ko-fi.com/saigoat and help support my writing! Thank you so much


End file.
